


Another World, Another Life (Juniper, Juniper)

by ursa_maritima



Series: Bards, man... [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Inspired By Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 12:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16619213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ursa_maritima/pseuds/ursa_maritima
Summary: so there's this post on tumblr about Percy and Vex naming one of their kids after Scanlan's mom (https://mcgonagollygee.tumblr.com/post/178459718332/everyone-needs-to-recognize-that-vex-and-percy) and I wholeheartedly agree with it, and wanted to run with it.(title's from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KxX8t_kFtmI)NaNoWriMo this year for me was supposed to be about *finishing* fics, dammit, not starting new ones.  oh well.  words are words!





	Another World, Another Life (Juniper, Juniper)

“I trust this one also has a name long enough to dry out your tongue saying it? Just to keep things familiar, you know.” Scanlan makes sure his earring’s safely tucked in a pocket before walking the rest of the way into the room, his hands reaching out towards Percy. “Ioun forbid you have a kid with just one name- how will they make deals with-”  
“Let’s not- let’s not talk about any kind of deals until she’s old enough to...never. Let’s just never talk about deals, that’s better.” Percy relinquishes the bundle of blue and white woven fabric that ends in a scrunched, sleeping infant face into Scanlan’s arms. “Yes, she’s got the traditional multiple names, but Junebug’s what we’ve taken to calling her.”  
“Junebug?” Scanlan snorts. “The other kids all get lordly dramatic names, and you, you poor thing, get-”  
“It’s short for Juniper.” He doesn’t drop the baby at Vex’ahlia’s soft, gentle syllables, mostly because he hadn’t really been listening. Oh, not that he hadn’t been listening, of course he was listening, but there’s listening and then there’s _listening_ and Scanlan’s not usually into that. _Listening_ is for people who can’t think fast on their feet and losers who can’t dance with words easier than people. But that name, that’s...that’s _his_ , you know? Not many things in Scanlan’s life are quiet- Pike grinning wildly down at him from Grog’s shoulder, that hug from when Vex had seen through his Meat Man disguise, those are soft and fond in his memories, but not really quiet. His memories of his mom, though? Remembering them makes the world hush around him, as if he could step sideways through time and back into the warm, fresh bread-scented cottage. He feels that now, staring at the weirdly-huge but still so small squished face of the newest de Rolo quarter-elf. It feels like the world’s blurred at the edges, unsteady, a little unreal. He knows they’re family; knows they don’t ever give up on family, but there’s still times when he remembers with jagged clarity the looks on their faces as he took all his hurt and loss and rage and spat his mother’s name in their direction before disappearing from their lives for so long. He’ll never admit to nightmares, but that reunion ending differently factors in to a decent number of the nightmares he never gets. So to hear that name- her name- spoken with such fondness, such love, in Vex’s voice? It feels...weird. A little like it wasn’t theirs to take, this thing of his, but also a little like this gift of theirs isn’t his to take.  
“Scanlan,” he’s so wrapped in thought that it’s a near thing, but he still doesn't drop the baby as Vex continues, her words now sounding more like the teasing lilt she usually uses. “We’d like you to meet Juniper Aitil Dëllinja Einer Kadikis de Rolo.”  
“Juniper, huh.” she chooses this moment to open her eyes, goggling at him with that uniquely-infant stare. “It’s nice to meet you, Junebug.”

~

They chat a while longer before Juniper starts fussing and Scanlan exercises his favorite part of being an uncle by handing her back to her parents and seeking sanctuary with people who can’t sustain a C above middle C for hours on end. He finds himself in the library, and finds that it’s a popular destination- Cassandra’s curled up in one armchair by the fire, Grog’s sacked out under the table, and Pike’s seated at the table, her feet propped up on Grog’s snoring shoulder.  
“Welcome to the second-best place to hide from shrieking infants,” Cassandra says drily. “Pull up a chair.”  
“Or a Grog,” Pike adds with a grin. He does so, though he opts to steal the other armchair and the welcoming warmth of the fire rather than the overly-tall chairs at the table. He stretches out with a relieved sigh at the stillness of the library.  
“Second best, huh? What’s the best place, then? Because this one’s pretty great.”  
“Percival’s workshop also has the same silence spells in place, though they’re more intended for keeping his noises _in_ rather than _out_ the way the library’s been enchanted.”  
“It does seem like this quarter-elf is much louder than the other three,” he muses.  
“I suppose that makes sense, given her name,” Pike says quietly. There’s a bit of a funny tone to her voice, but it’s not any of the tones that Scanlan’s familiar with ending in a sighed ‘oh, Scanlan…’ so he’s not too concerned with it.  
“Juniper Aitil Dëllinja Einer Kadikis de Rolo the Th-” ...wait. Kadikis, that’s familiar. That’s _too_ familiar, he knows that word, but it’s...what is it? Scanlan frowns at the fire. It’s on the tip of his tongue…  
Cassandra coughs.  
“Pike, did you know there’s an Elvish word for an evergreen tree with small blue berries? It’s also a relatively common name.”  
“That’s a lovely fact, Cassandra,” Pike responds, and now the tone in her voice is wide and bright and smiling. “What I find also fascinating is that Celestial has a lot of words for things that don’t even exist naturally in the celestial planes.”  
Scanlan makes a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, listening with only half an ear, still puzzling over the familiarity with Kadikis. It doesn’t sound like Gnomish, it’s certainly not Common, it’s not one of the de Rolo family names, it’s- it’s _Marquesian_ , that’s what it is! That terrible tea Kaylie kept trying to make him drink when he was sick was called medus-kadiķis tea; honey-juniper tea, terrible stuff, it-  
Suddenly the nonsensical comment from Cassandra and the laughter in Pike’s voice are worth far more attention.  
“Like what, Pike?” Cassandra is leaning forward towards Pike, but she’s watching Scanlan as she does so.  
“Oh, like an evergreen scrub brush with blue berries that’s got so many uses in healing, in cooking, you know. Would you like to know it?”  
“Aitil?” Scanlan finds himself asking, his voice a little strangled.  
“No, that’s Elvish,” Cassandra says. “It’s Einer, right?”  
“No, that’s Dwarvish, I’m afraid, though it means the same thing. Dëllinja is the Celestial equivalent.” Pike’s outright grinning at him now, that wide delighted smile that has more of the trickster than the cleric at its heart.  
“They didn’t- not Percival Frankenstein von Muscle Tchaikovsky de Rolex the Third**, he wouldn’t- not her _name_ , that’s not-”  
“Oh yes, Scanlan. My brother most definitely named his fourth child Juniper Juniper Juniper Juniper Juniper de Rolo- and that's _before_ the new-parent sleep deprivation set in, too, I might add.”  
They’re both laughing now, their voices harmonizing oddly with Grog’s snoring, and for an instant he feels angry- his mother’s name isn’t a joke- but it’s at a distance. It’s a feeling that he should be feeling, not one that he’s actually feeling. What he’s really feeling is more like…  
“Well, that’s a relief,” he hears himself say, settling back into the chair and kicking his legs up onto the armrest. “Naming the kid after my mom, who never knew I’d end up running with a bad-ass pack of assholes, that’s a little weird. But naming the kid after my mom in a way that points out that even when we’re assholes to each other, we’re still _our_ assholes? That makes perfect sense.” And it does. That weird feeling of ‘what right do they have to take that name’ layered with ‘what right do I have to accept that gift’ is gone, now. In its place is the feeling he used to get when they’d be in the mansion for the night, trading stories and dick jokes and egging the Vax-and-Grog prank war on, and it’s nice. A little bit like coming home.  
Plus, if he’s right about the kid’s voice, it’s only gonna be a few years before Uncle Scanlan has to come rescue the de Rolos from a baby bardling… and that’s going to be a perfect comeback.

**Author's Note:**

> **Percival Frankenstein von Muscle Tchaikovsky de Rolex the Third is from this perfectly amazing caption on this tumblr post (http://westerbroski.tumblr.com/post/155702346158) and I know Tal'dorei probably doesn't know Mary Shelley or overpriced watches or Russian Romantic composers BUT c'mon, 'Frankenstein von Muscle Tchaikovsky' is like...*the* perfect description of a giant nerd who blew his own damn self up with a homemade alkali metals bomb....in order to win a cannonball contest. 
> 
> I used The Great And Terrible Google for my translation efforts; I'm certain none of them are actually correct but I hope they are, at least, not offensive. aitil = irish, dëllinja = albanian, einer = norwegian, and kadiķis = latvian. unsurprisingly, the word for 'juniper' in a lot of languages is, in fact, 'juniper' or something too similar-sounding, and I needed the penny to take a while to drop for the Scanman.


End file.
